


Unsolicited

by ayatsujik



Series: The Exorcist Chronicles [2]
Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 07:46:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13142196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayatsujik/pseuds/ayatsujik
Summary: Seiji tries to have tea with Shuuichi. Pre-canon; also works as a standalone.





	Unsolicited

  
The first time he paid a professional visit to the Matoba main house, Nanase greeted him at the door, all business smile and gleaming spectacles. She was wearing woolen robes, dyed navy-blue, instead of her usual black pantsuit; the outfit gave her a more relaxed air. For a moment he wished he had worn kimono, too, instead of the button-down shirt and slacks he defaulted to for exorcist work. It was the kind of house that sized you up and found you lacking if you departed from its conventions. A function of its master, possibly.  
  
"Haven't seen you for a while, young Natori," Nanase remarked, as they walked across the roofed passageway that led to the inner grounds of the residence. It cut across the gardens, their dusting of snow gleaming under the mid-afternoon light. "I hear things are going well - we're going to have to keep an eye on you, eh?"  
  
Natori laughed, a bland, pleasant sound. "Surely you jest, Nanase-san. You know I currently remain in no position to turn down assignments - not even those offered as subcontracts by the Matoba clan."  
  
"Our services are in such demand we can't be everywhere, you see," Nanase replied, a glint in her eye. "It's unfortunate one of our members failed to manage his assignment, although that does very occasionally happen. But the head instantly knew whose services to call on. A win-win situation, wouldn't you say?"  
  
"The Matoba are reputed for doing business in black-and-white, indeed," Natori said, smiling slightly.  
  
Nanase glanced at him, and harrumphed, somewhere between a snort and a laugh.  
  
She stopped before a door, sliding it open to reveal a large, tatami-floored room, warmed by a large electric heater humming in a corner. There was a low table inside, set with a porcelain pot, two cups, two small plates and two tiny lacquered forks. All this surrounded a platter of expensive-looking Japanese sweets, made to resemble miniature flowers.  
  
"Please have a seat," she said, gesturing to one of the flat cushions on the tatami floor. "I hope you're not in a rush?"  
  
Natori looked puzzled. "Not particularly, but I was under the impression that I was here to collect a payment...?"  
  
"Of course, of course," Nanase replied in mock dismay. "Surely you don't think our clan *that* untrustworthy, Natori. The head simply requests the pleasure of your presence for tea, if you would. We do at least owe you some hospitality."  
  
"You mean I'm allowed to say no?" Natori asked, raising a brow.  
  
"How unkind," a new voice broke in. "I certainly wouldn't attempt to hold you here against your will. Think of the rumours it might cause."  
  
Natori, his face a study in blankness, regarded the figure who had come up behind Nanase. He, too, was attired in what apparently passed as business casual for exorcists: a grey kimono under a charcoal-hued haori, ponytail carelessly draped over his shoulder in a long streak of black.  
  
"However," Matoba continued, "since I did plan on passing you the payment over tea, it would delight me if you accepted this invitation." He smiled, giving his face an expression that was almost sweet. If you didn't know better, Natori thought darkly.  
  
He sighed, fighting the urge to rub his temples. He felt a stir of spirit energy as Sasago and Urihime, in their inert forms, reacted to what they perceived as his distress. They weren't wrong, precisely, but he knew their appearance would be constituted as rudeness at best and a challenge at worst. Fortunately he'd warned them not to come out unless summoned.  
  
"As long as you haven't put anything into the tea, I suppose it would be rude of me to decline. I can't stay long, though."  
  
"Over-suspicion raises the risk of early-onset baldness, Natori," Nanase said, grinning. "If you'll excuse me, then." She bowed, and disappeared down another corridor.  
  
"After you," Matoba said, gesturing towards the room.  
  
Natori, already regretting not having said no, stepped inside. He lowered himself into seiza position on one of the cushions, and placed his hands on his knees.  
  
"So formal, Shuuichi-san," Matoba remarked lightly, sliding the door shut. He crossed his legs as he sat down. Natori watched as he drew his sleeves back slightly before reaching for the teapot, pouring a thin stream of bright green liquid into each of the cups. He was humming tunelessly to himself.  
  
"Please. And help yourself to the sweets, if you'd like." A cup was pushed over to him. He gave a brief nod of thanks, and took a sip, there not being anything else to do.  
  
"I believe Nanase has conveyed our appreciation for your taking care of this assignment so quickly?"  
  
"More or less."  
  
"I wasn't sure if you would say yes, actually, Shuuichi-san." Matoba picked his cup up in one hand and blew on his tea before sipping it, cradling the small cup in his long, pale fingers. Natori, without particularly desiring to, remembered that those elegant-looking digits could grip like a vice, and how they were covered in calluses from years of archery training.

People saw the power that Matoba radiated, but not the work that supported it. Easier, he thought, to hide behind envy and fear. Or perhaps they never got close enough to see. 

He pushed his glasses up his nose. "Work is work, Matoba-san. I'll do what I need to. I'd also appreciate it if you didn't use my name during such occasions."  
  
"Does it bother you that much?" Matoba said, smiling again.  
  
"Insofar as it's inappropriate for professional meetings." He focused on the cup in front of him, studying the details of its lacquer design.  
  
The only reply was a soft rustle of paper. He looked up to the sight of Matoba retrieving a pastry from the sweets platter. His selection was shaped and coloured like a tiny yellow chrysanthemum. He popped it into his mouth, chewed, and took another sip of tea.  
  
"We use this shop often," he said, conversationally. "I'm sure Nanase has their address, if you'd like."  
  
"Matoba," Natori said wearily. "If you want to say something, spit it out already."  
  
"Are you sure you won't have one of the sweets? They really are good, you know."  
  
"I'm going to count to ten," Natori said, with a calmness he didn't feel. "And if you still won't get to the point by then, I'd like my payment, please. One."  
  
Matoba laughed, then, a low, clear ripple of sound. He reached into the front fold of his kimono, slowly and deliberately, and produced a slim white envelope embossed with the Matoba crest, which he held out to Natori.  
  
"Please check all is in order, if you would."  
  
Natori took it, opening the top flap. A bundle of crisp brown notes peeked out. He counted them, nodded, and resealed the envelope, slipping it into his jacket pocket.  
  
"A pleasure to do business with you," he said, bowing slightly. "Now, if you'll excuse me -"  
  
"Natori," Matoba broke in. "I've said this before, but you should consider joining us."  
  
He stared, taken aback.  
  
"You can better expand your client base and assignment range is best done with resources to draw on," Matoba continued, his voice even. "Resources which we have in greater abundance, shall we say, than most clans do. On our side, meanwhile, one of our families risks having to retire within the next year or so. We could use you. And you could use us. Don't you think this would be a mutually beneficial agreement?"  
  
Natori kept quiet.   
  
"The Matoba, as always, are impeccably strategic," he finally replied. "But my answer hasn't changed."  
  
Matoba's expression didn't waver. "I see. What a shame. Though I did suspect as much."  
  
"I'm sorry," Natori said, surprising himself. There wasn't anything he needed to apologise for, of course. But somehow this situation moved him. Matoba Seiji didn't usually ask twice. He had no intention of pursuing any conclusions from this observation, but a vague impulse pushed him to say something more.  
  
He paused, and then reached out, somewhat reluctantly, to take a pastry from the platter. It was shaped like a pink camellia. He bit through its soft rice-paste covering, dusted with flour, down to the delicate sweetness of the white bean filling inside.  
  
Natori swallowed. It *was* delicious. Matoba watched him, his face unreadable.  
  
"Thank you for the tea," Natori said, draining his cup. "I'll show myself out."  
  
"I'll get into trouble with Nanase if I don't at least walk you to the door," Matoba said calmly. He stood up in a single fluid movement, heading over to open the door. Natori carefully got to his feet, feeling the tingle in his legs as he straightened them.  
  
They walked in silence to the front entrance. Natori bent down and slipped on his shoes, aware of Matoba's presence at his back. He turned to face the kimono-clad figure, his gaze briefly catching on the white strip of cloth that covered his right eye.  
  
"Be well, Seiji."  
  
Matoba raised a brow.  
  
Natori quirked a corner of his mouth. Then the door slid shut behind him.  
  
"There, now," said Nanase, appearing next to Matoba. "It went just as you thought it would." Her voice fairly dripped irony.  
  
"You'll pardon me for thinking the experiment worth trying. We are adults now, after all."  
  
Nanase snorted, the sound ending in a laugh. "Yes and no, young master. Yes and no."  
  
She clapped him on the shoulder, and walked back into the house, shaking her head. Seiji, smiling faintly, followed her.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the chapter (manga vol. 3 #11) where Nanase tricks Natori into capturing a big youkai as trial shiki for the Matoba and instructs him to come to their place for payment. That's got to have happened before, heh heh.


End file.
